


Common Bond

by Sarren



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Friendship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-04
Updated: 2009-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarren/pseuds/Sarren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto and Rhys find something in common.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Common Bond

**Author's Note:**

> Written for mahnamahna for Sweet Charity 2009.

Rhys is just lighting the last candle when the phone rings. He knows what that means. Well, not what, exactly, but it can't be anything good. Great, another two hours slaving over a hot stove wasted. For a moment anger makes his gut clench, but he takes a deep breath, then another before he picks up the phone.

It's not Gwen. Rhys stares at the display for a moment, worry replacing annoyance.

"Ianto, what's wrong? Is Gwen all right?"

"Nothing's wrong." Ianto's voice is smooth, soothing. "Sorry to worry you. I was just calling to let you know that Jack and Gwen have been delayed in London. They won't be back tonight after all."

Rhys slumps in relief. "She couldn't call herself? I thought..."

"I know, I'm sorry." Ianto says, sounding sincerely regretful. "Something's come up. They were called to Downing Street urgently a few hours ago and I haven't heard anything since."

"Are you sure they're okay?"

"We have no reason to believe they aren't. Anyway, Jack would have found a way to contact us if he needed to."

There's a hiss behind him as his sauce bubbles over. Rhys hurries to the stove and turns down the heat, phone tucked to his ear as he reaches to take the lid off the pan and burns his fingers. "Shit," he mutters, jerking away, dislodging the phone, fumbling to catch it awkwardly with one and a half hands.

"Rhys? What's happening?" Ianto is saying, as he puts the phone up to his ear again. "Rhys?" He doesn't sound quite as unruffled now. Rhys thinks that working for Torchwood has got to be hard on the nerves.

"Don't worry, I haven't been suddenly been attacked by aliens, or mutant frogs or anything."

"Glad to hear it," Ianto says.

Rhys looks around the empty flat, at the forlorn looking place settings, the wine chilling in the ice bucket, at the carefully prepared meal.

"Have you eaten?" he finds himself blurting out.

There's a pause. "No, why?"

"D'you want to come over and have dinner? I've only gone and cooked a nice meal and it's going to go to waste otherwise."

The pause is longer this time. "Why not?" Ianto says finally.

"Great, we can eat whenever you get here." Rhys says, probably a bit too heartily.

Ianto says he'll be about 20 minutes and hangs up. Rhys wonders if he's in the Hub, if the others are there. Maybe he should have invited them too, only there's only enough for two, and honestly, while he quite likes Toshiko, he's not really in the mood to deal with Owen.

Meanwhile, he's got company arriving shortly. Rhys checks that that nothing's about to burn or otherwise go horribly wrong in the kitchen and gives the living room a quick once over. Not that it really needs it. He's tidied up already, he'd been aiming for a romantic dinner to welcome Gwen home from her 'business trip' after all, and tripping over dirty undies never helped set the mood in his experience.

They've hardly had any time to themselves since the wedding. A honeymoon has been out of the question - too much rift activity, apparently. Rhys doesn't really mind. He has all the work he can handle at the moment himself, and he hasn't been able to replace Leyton yet, so Rhys is helping out with the driving.

Rhys is idly stirring the sauce and thinking about rosters when the doorbell rings. He takes off the apron as he goes to open the door.

Ianto enters hesitantly and stops, looking around the room with surprised expression on his face. "If I'd known this was a date I would have brought flowers," he says.

"What? No!" Rhys says hurriedly, only now realising he hasn't put out the candles. He hurriedly turns on the main light.

"I'm joking," Ianto says, smiling slightly and turns to hang up his coat.

Rhys puts away the candles, aware that Ianto is watching him. He feels awkward, suddenly embarrassed, as it occurs to him that of course Ianto is gay – Ianto had been dancing with Jack at the wedding. Rhys had been relieved when he'd realised that Ianto and Jack were...together. Surely that meant that Jack wasn't after Gwen. And now he and Gwen are married, and Ianto and Jack are, what, lovers?

Now he wonders what they're going to talk about during dinner. What do they have in common, apart from the fact that their partners both work for Torchwood? They could talk about aliens all night, but he gets enough of that from Gwen, thanks.

Now Ianto is standing in his living room, looking as if he's wondering why he agreed to come.

"Help yourself to wine," Rhys waves towards the table and goes to serve up.

"I don't suppose you have any beer?" Ianto asks, looking at him hopefully.

Rhys relaxes a bit. Maybe it won't be too bad. "Brains okay?"

"Of course."

Even with the candles gone, sitting down at the table with Ianto feels weird, like there's an elephant in the room they're not talking about. Ianto isn't helping, he mostly keeps his eyes on his plate. Rhys asks him how work is, just for something to say. Ianto shrugs, tells him they're catching up on paperwork, doing research, you know, while Jack and Gwen are gone. Rhys hadn't realised you could make a job catching aliens sound that boring.

'Are you sure they're safe?" Rhys says abruptly.

Ianto puts down his fork, swallows the food he'd been chewing. "I'm sure."

"I miss her. I know she's only been gone a week, but the place is empty without her, you know?"

Ianto puts down his fork. "I understand," he says quietly, not looking up.

Rhys doesn't want to ask, but he brought it up, so it's only fair, he thinks. "Jack?"

Ianto looks up then. He smiles wryly. "Not that we..." He bites his lip. "I mean, it's not the same as you and Gwen, obviously."

"You're not about to do the whole wedding thing, you mean? Just as well – in my experience it's more trouble than it's worth."

Ianto half smiles. "You should have been there for the clean up."

"No thanks."

The conversation lapses again and Rhys catches sight of the time. Not that it matters, he's recording it, but maybe Ianto..."Listen, there's a match on..."

Ianto grins. He leans back in the chair. "Who's playing?" he asks.

Rhys grins back. "Does it matter?"

Ianto gets up and gathers up his plate and his beer. Rhys follows him to the couch and they finish their meals sitting in front of the telly. Ianto sits tidily, his plate on his knees, and eats carefully, then takes his plate over to the sink as soon as he's finished. Rhys hears the tap running and the distinctively clink of stuff being stacked into the sink.

"Oi," he says over his shoulder. "None of that. Second half's starting."

Ianto comes back over. He's cracked open a couple more beers and hands one to Rhys as he sits down, eyes already on the game.

That's pretty much the end of the conversation, apart from a few comments about the action, but the atmosphere's more comfortable now; Ianto's settled back into the corner of the couch and even loosened his tie. Rhys finds himself thinking that Ianto's actually pretty good company.

When the match finishes Ianto gets up to go. At the door he pauses. "Thanks," he says, awkwardly, and Rhys gets the impression Ianto's not just talking about the meal.

"Do you play?" Rhys asks impulsively.

Ianto raises his eyebrows. "I used to. Back in London. Before...everything. Not much time nowadays. Why?"

Rhys shrugs. "Me and some mates play five a side down the leisure centre at weekends. You're welcome to join us tomorrow."

"Do you not have a full team?"

"Oh it's not as formal as that. If lots of blokes turn up we tend to play hard, and switch off a lot, if not so many we pace ourselves more. We're none of us Ronaldo, after all."

"Then I'd love to." Ianto smiles slightly. "What time?"

"Game starts at 9 am, but we all come a bit earlier to warm up, get in a bit of practice."

Ianto nods. "I'll see you there."

Rhys shuts the door after him. There, that'd gone all right, after all. Might even suggest doing it again sometime.

 

Jeezus, they've actually won! Rhys looks over Ianto, who's grinning fiercely. He's as sweaty and exhausted as the rest of the team, at least two of the goals down to him getting the ball to where the striker could just nudge it in to goal. Rhys grabs Ianto by the back of the neck and pulls him into a hug, pounding his back excitedly. "Yeah," he crows.

A wolf whistle sounds and they turn to see the unmistakable figure of Captain Jack Harkness, fingers at his mouth. Gwen is huddled by his side against the wind, beaming proudly at Rhys as he jogs towards them. Rhys finds he doesn't mind so much. It's him Gwen comes home to.

"I do love these twenty-first century male bonding rituals," Jack is saying as Rhys comes up. Rhys sweeps Gwen up into his arms and kisses her with all the love and need and worry he's been storing up this last week. Gwen gasps into his mouth and clutches him, and when he pulls back enough to look at her properly, make sure she's really okay, her eyes are wide and dazed and her cheeks are flushed. He knows that look. It's his favourite look on her and he wants to take her home right now and make sure she keeps on looking like that for as long as possible.

"Wow," he hears Jack say, and tears his eyes away from Gwen to look at him. Jack is looking at him appraisingly. "I think I'm finally beginning to see what Gwen sees in you, Rhys."

"Really," Rhys says, deadpan. "I have no idea what she sees in you."

Rather than taking offence, Jack actually looks intrigued. "I couldn't help noticing you were in fine form out there on the field, Rhys."

"Now, don't you start on about homoeroticism in sport, you."

Jack raises his eyebrows. "Am I that predictable?"

"Yes," say Rhys, Gwen and Ianto instantly.

Jack pouts.

Then he looks at Ianto and even Rhys can see his eyes go hot as he looks Ianto up and down. He's not at all surprised to see Ianto start to blush. "The sweaty-jock look suits you, Ianto," Jack murmurs. "I hope you're wearing a jock strap. I'd hate anything to get damaged."

Ianto opens his mouth but Jack puts his fingers over his lips. "Shh. Don't ruin the surprise."

Ianto stares at Jack as he sucks Jack's fingers into his mouth. Jack hisses and steps up close to Ianto, his other hand settling on Ianto's waist.

Rhys feels uncomfortably like he's witnessing something private, at least on Ianto's side. He suspects Jack probably likes an audience.

To his dismay he also finds himself mildly turned on. The electricity between the two men is intense. Gwen gives him a knowing look and he shifts uncomfortably.

Gwen smacks Jack on the arm. "Get a room, you two," she says, and Ianto stumbles backwards a couple of steps, out of Jack's reach, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Party pooper," Jack says, but some of the heat goes out of his eyes.

Ianto is still blushing slightly, but he looks at Rhys calmly. "Thanks for the game. I enjoyed it."

"So we'll see you next week, then?"

Ianto looks disconcerted for a moment, then he smiles wryly. "Barring any apocalypses in the meantime."

Jack claps his hands together. "On that cheery note, my lovelies, we'll be off. Ianto really needs to get out of those sweaty clothes."

Rhys looks at Ianto but Ianto just rolls his eyes and shrugs.

"I have a whole new respect for what Ianto has to put up with," Rhys says as they walk to the car, Gwen tucked snugly under his arm.

"What about what I have to put up with, watching them?"

"I don't know how you manage to go to work every day," Rhys says dryly.

"Go on, it was hot, admit it." Gwen nudges him with her hip.

"No."

"If it makes you feel any better, it's those fifty-first century pheromones. You'd pretty much have to be dead not to be affected, I think."

"I'm not admitting anything."

"You know, if you ever do get curious, I'm pretty sure Jack invented swinging."

"No!" Rhys is nearly sure Gwen is joking.

"And possibly orgies. I wouldn't put it past him."

"No!"

Gwen laughs. "So, you and Ianto pals then, now?"

"Maybe."

"We were only gone a week!"

"Yeah, well, a lot can happen in a week, can't it." Two days, even.

"Next you'll be suggesting we have them over for dinner," Gwen says in a marvelling tone, laughing up at him.

Rhys gives her a squeeze. "Let's not go mad, all right?"


End file.
